born to blush unseen
by hermiones
Summary: I know that we were meant to break. —Sasuke/Sakura.
1. summer

**born to blush unseen**—I know that we were made to break.

—

—

「summer」_do you remember, sasuke-kun? how it felt to live beyond the boundaries of this prison? how it felt to hold my hand in the warmth of the sun, in a place just beyond the horizon?_

—

—

(the smell of fresh paint)

Sakura's bare toes brushed the marble floor from her precarious perch on the wobbly oak stool. She leaned her side into the wall in the hopes to regain balance, her ribs colliding uncomfortably with the crown molding.

"I don't see why this is a necessary aspect of pain-" She wobbled unsteadily on the stool, fingers reaching out instinctively to grasp the easel in front of her, squawking in surprise. "-_ting!" _

Her fingers slid through scarlet and deep blue paint, smearing her work just as stability returned to her, a deep frown crinkling its way onto her face.

Sai, on the opposite side of the sunroom, was busy dabbling light pinks on a large canvas. "Risk breeds curiosity. Curiosity breeds creation."

She scowled upon readjusting herself, staring at her stained fingers morosely. "No, all your risk bred was destruction. I ruined my painting. And I smell like old oil, now."

Sai raised his head, tilting his head to the side upon inspecting her work. He exhaled deeply.

"What?"

His paintbrush met the edge of the palette with a soft clatter, and he walked up behind her slowly. "Ah, I see. It's not pretty anymore."

Sakura threw her hands up in the air. "I am aware! I _just _told you that I ruined it."

"On the contrary. It's exquisite. You have a skewed perspective of what it means to make art. It's not about making pretty things—daffodils in the sunset or glittering tea sets," he said purposefully, referring to her previous works. She narrowed her eyes at the implication.

"Art is about illustrating life-from its most glorious thunderstorm to the most miserable passing of time. Not everything is beautiful. Sometimes the most vulgar can be the most spectacular. You of all people should know that, _Ugly_."

Sakura turned towards him, too thoughtful to address the particularly offensive nickname. "It was a painting of the royal family. Now it looks like they're dark wraiths, slashed and bleeding."

Sai returned back to his canvas which was leaning against one of the larger windows, brooding and swapping out the light pinks for a deep gray. Sakura, all too used to the moody artist, brushed off the lack of a response and slid off the risky seat, padding towards the basin to wet a towel and cleanse her hands. He didn't respond until the end of their session together, a full twenty minutes later when the sun had started to sink below the horizon. "Princess, that may perhaps be the most accurate painting that has ever been done of royalty."

When Sasuke found her half an hour later, the sunroom still smelled of fresh paint, but the white marble floor reflected the oranges of the setting sun, the easel dragging out lengthened shadows across the room. She was cross-legged on the floor, head tipped back, staring, mesmerized, at the deep gash running through the Crown Prince and the Queen.

"Is there anything wrong in wanting beauty, Sasuke-kun?"

He didn't respond.

—

(late)

Her mother always told her that her father had believed being royal was exactly like indentured servitude, and even though she'd been raised far from court in a palace in the countryside, Sakura agreed. Leaned forward on a horse, bareback, she knew that she'd never be allowed to do anything but side saddle, knew that this trip would be forbidden, knew that even now it was heavily regarded with disappointment from her governesses and ladies-in-waiting.

But ever since her mother, Tsunade, had taken her on biweekly trips to the clinics and orphanages in the neighboring village as a child, the practice had been ingrained.

"They're my people," she explained as she swept through the streets next to Sasuke. "They need me."

Sasuke scoffed. "No, what they need is medical attention. And you need more luck. It's a wonder you haven't caught something fatal yet."

Sakura sneered, turning her head back to the dirt path winding through the back gardens of the palace towards the stables. "Yes, _Lord_ Uchiha," she drawled irritably. "We've all heard your insufferable opinion before."

"Watch out," he said suddenly, reprimanding tone swapping out for one of concern.

She was quick to reply snippily. "For what? Your awful sense of empathy?"

"For the mud."

She blinked, bottle green eyes lifting upwards to yank aside her mare a few seconds too late. The puddle of mud splashed up the side, the hem of her gown gathering six inches worth of gunk. "Ah, fuck!"

Sasuke raised his eyebrows as they slowed to a stop, the stable hand already waiting to take care of the horses. Sakura had practically leaped off of the horse, angrily striding towards the large wooden doors at the back of the palace. Sasuke caught up easily, fingers winding around her elbow to yank her to a stop.

"You need to breathe," he instructed, meeting her eyes calmly. "You can't go back in there looking like a mortar about to pop off." She inhaled obediently, frustrating still glimmering in her eyes. "I didn't even know you knew that word."

"I _read_ Sasuke-kun. It's a side effect of being intelligent."

"Hopefully your insistence upon not listening to me is a treatable symptom. I seem to recall your physician saying it's a birth defect."

Sakura seethed, turning away and gliding down the path, her steps slightly hindered by the now excess weight of dirt and water soiling her clothes. A trail of water dripped behind her, and Sasuke sighed, all too used to these bouts of anger, but like always, he followed faithfully, responsible for watching her back.

They made their way up the steps in tense silence, Sakura's hand curled delicately along the hand-carved banister, making for the back door, but the heavy mahogany swung open before she could get within reach. Tsunade swept out looking markedly frazzled as her gaze locked on her daughter, holding an ornate card in her left hand. "You're late. I've had the ladies pack your things; we leave in two hours. Go freshen up and change," she paused in her instruction, finally taking in her sweaty and muddy appearance. "For god's sake, what did you do-swim in manure?"

All the irritation evaporated from Sakura's lungs in an instant, ignoring the sour barb. "Leave? What? Why?"

"The Crown Prince is to be married. We're going to court."

—

(phobia)

The carriage bumped and rolled along, and Sakura leaned back heavily against the plush seat, blowing the hair falling in front of her face. The heavy pearl and ruby baubles were sagging from their previously careful place in her hair, but even their disarray didn't compare with the unsettled look on her face.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Sasuke asked, nudging her ciselé velvet covered ankles with his boot.

Sakura scoffed, brushing aside her hair with a flourish of her hand, gold rings flashing in the rain-washed light, tittering falsely. "Oh, _please. _My thoughts are worth _vastly_ more than mere pennies. At least several thousand diamonds."

Sasuke exhaled in amusement. "So you're thinking about court, then?"

The façade melted off of Sakura's face, and she faced the window, leaning her forehead against the cool glass. She sighed, her breath fogging temporarily, gaze focused on the way the rain drops collected across the pane. "I'm…" she paused, gathering her thoughts. "I'm worrying."

"About?"

"About you."

Sasuke blinked. "What?"

Her gaze flashed to him for a brief second before returning to the muddy grass and small, poverty-stricken villages they were passing. The torrential downpour did nothing to disguise the black smoke rising from the chimneys, and Sakura wondered if she'd smell burning flesh or just fire if she were to open the window.

She finally leaned back into her seat again, tearing away her gaze from the state of the country. Her hand stretched forward and brushed away the hair from his face, gloves all but forgotten on the seat. Her fingers lingered on the edge of his jaw, tracing the stubble. As she pulled away he caught her fingers, pulling her forward until she was off of her side of the carriage and seated right next to him.

Unbidden, her cheeks flushed, and with the proximity, the teeth she had so precariously clenched to hold back the gales of her thoughts relaxed.

"I'm worried about you seeing your brother for the first time in more than a decade, I'm worried about this plague that's annihilating the countryside, I'm worried about wools becoming more expensive in the quickening winter, I'm worried about the resistance towards the practicality of the 'tasteless' potatoes, I'm worried about gossip, and I'm worried about what returning will do to us. To me, to you."

Sasuke's warm, rough fingers wound through hers, squeezing, his gaze holding hers. "It's my job to worry, not yours."

"Just because there's some silly contract dictating your life to be forfeit to mine does not mean I have no valid right to worry or be concerned about yours."

They settled into silence, but the slowly heightening cries and pleas from outside her gilded cage had her looking back out the window. There, lining the streets as they took the final turn towards the distant castle, were the beggars. Their grimy fingers pressed against the glass, their tremulous voices wailed out in desperation.

"I am so afraid." Sakura said finally, voice trembling, unable to rip her gaze away from the stark vision of death against her own comfortable luxury.

"Of?"

Slipping her hand into her pocket, she pulled out a handful of gold pieces and pulled away from Sasuke's grip to crack the window open, letting the coins slip through and hit the puddles with a sharp clatter.

She slammed the window shut again before anyone could get a grip in, turning and sitting back where she was originally. Sakura busied herself, arranging the heavy, luxurious cloth of her dress, readjusting the glittering pins in her hair. She pulled the soft gloves back on like it was ritual, and the clamoring outside faded away into the sounds of cacophonous rain pattering against the roof as they passed the front entrance gates and continued up the circular drive.

"Dying before I can make a difference."

—

(there was no warning)

Sometimes, Sakura forgot that she was always guarded by nobility. Sasuke's title wasn't one that was ever spoken of in the public arena, and the history that tarnished his last name had led his family into contractually signing away their freedom to hers in order earn their place in court back, to regain the trust that they had lost a century ago.

Since birth, every Senju was tied to an Uchiha to watch over them, and her Uchiha was Sasuke.

But despite the fact that Uchiha was synonymous with betrayal and darkness and maybe even military might, despite the fact that those trademarked looks were never to be treated as meaningful, Sasuke still carried himself like a Lord and people noticed.

There was no warning to the way court life unfolded before Sakura, with the way she had an almost practiced ease in pulling apart reluctant secrets and gossip like a shy bud forced to bloom under her capable fingers.

But there was even less of a preface to the way Sasuke commanded attention. For him, petals fell away without lifting a finger. Just the slice of his gaze and the knowledge that his word was backed by hers was enough.

He was the iron fist to her soft power, the smoldering embers to her glowing spark. Within days, her reputation was built on her wit, her charisma, her intellect, and her kindness. His, just behind her shadow, was built on his authoritative command, his keen eyes, and his unquestioning loyalty to her.

"This past week has made me realize one thing," she said to him one evening as they glided around the ballroom in a waltz, his hand tucked at the respectful curve of her waist and her fingers lightly gripping his shoulder.

"Oh? And what's that?" his lips curved into an amused smile at the fierceness in her posture, and his hand slid lower to caress her silk-covered hip.

She nodded firmly. "I have realized that I can accomplish things here if I really wish to. After all, I have a will made of fire."

—

(keepsake)

She did her best to remember that what they have couldn't be touched by the light of day, but in the moments where the honeyed rays crept through the drapes and the air was still, she'd let herself forget. Just for a few moments.

He was warmer than the sun.

His nose was tucked in the crook of her neck, his legs curled around hers, and even with several layers of clothes separating them, there was something intimate about the moment. Maybe it was the way his fingers were woven through hers, the way she could have sworn his breath mapped the cartography of her slight shoulders.

She unfurled her arm from beneath his, reaching towards the bedside table to her worn copy of _The Tale of Genji_, pulling out the pressed dandelion bookmark that he had given her a lifetime ago.

He roused at her movement, joints cracking and stretching as his eyelashes fluttered somewhere near the nape of her neck. She hadn't even managed to read a page before he'd shifted, pushing her onto her back fully, and nudged her arms apart, settling himself in the cradle of her hips.

"Good morning," he said, a playful, wicked look in his dark eyes.

She sighed, a sort of gentle amusement warming her expression. "Hello," she breathed. She stretched, carefully tossing the book back on the night stand.

His fingers traced over her collar bones and she did her best to repress the goose bumps, though she couldn't stop her eyes from closing in response. She only cracked an eye open when his fingers dipped around the hollow above her clavicle, catching the gold chain of the jade necklace she always wore.

"Why do you wear this? It's cursed," he said, voice gravelly from sleep.

She smiled. "I've already told you, I thought. Or maybe you asked that when we played hide-and-seek as kids, so I never answered. Regardless, it's not cursed. People just happen to be unlucky."

"Why take the risk?"

"It was the first Senju King's necklace, passed onto the eldest child every time. When mother abdicated the throne in favor of Kushina, the necklace still passed to me. I'm the eldest of the eldest. It…" she stopped thoughtfully, fingering the jade pendant. "It reminds me that there's so much to accomplish, so many dreams unrealized. It reminds me that you make your own luck, and that I intend to make mine."

Sasuke ducked down and tugged the cotton sleeve gently, pressing his lips to her newly exposed shoulder. "I still think it's cursed," his words muffled by his kiss.

"I am not cursed," she replied adamantly, winding her fingers through his soft hair. Her words dissolved into a hum of pleasure as he pressed more kisses up towards the shell of her ear.

"Yes, you are. You'll be the death of me."

She hit him playfully, bucking him off of her with her strong thighs. She rolled over until she was perched just on top of him, hair messy from sleep and eyes bright. Her hands cradled his jaw, and he couldn't remember a time when her smile had been wider. "Shut up," she whispered, just as she claimed his mouth for her own.

The sun rose steadily, and just for that day, she reveled in the light.

—

(night in)

"So? How goes the man hunt? Any goods good enough to keep nestled between your thighs?" Tsunade barked, a wicked smile creasing the lines in her aging face. She swirled the glass and knocked it back, cackling. Only an hour had passed since they'd begun their impromptu ladies' night in, complete with drinks, finger sandwiches, and butter biscuits, and already Tsunade had drunken herself into a haze.

Karin, second in line and the sister of the Crown Prince, Naruto, looked like her eyeballs were about to roll out of their sockets at the unfiltered question. Mikoto chortled from her careful position near the door, always alert just like her son. Even dressed down in a silk nightgown, hair carefully braided for the night, she still somehow looked the part of the fierce guardian.

"I, um," Karin began unsurely. "It goes…well, I suppose," she ended lamely, fingering the shortbread cookies on the plate in her lap.

Sakura giggled into her cup of tea, and Tsunade poured herself another gin and tonic. "Mikoto, sit down," Tsunade called, patting the empty space on the canapé next to her. "Nobody's going to assassinate me today."

Mikoto sighed, giving one last look to the wall she was leaning against, and came to curl up beside her longtime friend. "I know that my, um," she paused, echoing the word like a foreign term, "_man hunt_, was an eye-opening one. I learned that men get turned on by way too many things, and I learned that the uh," she stumbled over words again, searching for the most politically correct, "_nether regions_ are a bit…"

"Unsightly?" Tsunade suggested, looking thoroughly amused.

Mikoto coughed, the apples of her cheeks blooming, and her lips twitched, holding back what Sakura presumed to be laughter. "Ah, yes. Well, the last thing I learned was how transformative a new last name could be. It was like being reborn. A whole new you.

"And there's a certain…" her voice trailed off. "There's a certain power. In marrying. Somehow, even though there's a Queen sitting on the throne, having a man back your words is the same as carrying a sword around all day. You get to change the air about you, remake yourself. It's a metamorphosis unlike any other."

Tsunade nodded in assent. "But what's most important," she began, a nostalgic look in her honeyed eyes, "is that he makes you feel whole, even though you were complete when you met him."

Karin nodded absently, fingers winding around her luxurious long locks of hair. That particular scarlet fever ran in the family, the marker of their house. Sakura knew that because she was fourth in line and thus considerably close, her almost-red hair would never let her go unnoticed in public. For her cousin, the deep red trademark was even more of a beacon.

Mikoto spoke again, this time her expression lined with something between honesty and bitterness. "I'm sure that whenever you find someone, he'll be worth it. As my mother would say, you could not be so beautiful for nothing."

Karin smiled briefly at the compliment, but seemed to be lost in her thoughts. Mikoto subsequently turned her attention to Sakura who was curled up on the floral chaise. "What about you? Any special men in your life?"

Sakura stared down into the swishing black tea leaves, licking her lips thoughtfully as images of dark hair and safety and condemnation flashed in the reflective surface of the porcelain teacup. The brown tea sloshed against the edge as her hands shook, and she remembered the golden coins in the mud, the desperate need for power and change.

"No," she said, shaking her head. Her lips were askew, eyes creasing along the corners. "Not yet."

Mikoto's dark eyes, so similar to her son's, were penetrating, absolute. Sakura looked away, managing to keep the humor light in her voice even as her throat tightened. "Besides, I'm not sure I'd like to be defined by anyone but me. As they say, I am the empress of my own happiness."

—

(night out)

The chamber orchestra in the gallery was perhaps her favorite thing that evening. Even the arched ceiling's brilliant fresco could not compare to the breath of fresh air that she swore filled her lungs every time the music crescendoed.

"I'm falling in love," she said to Sasuke as they stood in the sidelines, watching as couples seamlessly filled the marble dance floor.

"Oh?" he responded, eyes penetrating. She fought the blood rushing to her cheeks valiantly. Even the mundane task of examining the seam in her gloves wasn't enough to ignore the sensation of his breath tickling the hairs at the nape of her neck when he stepped just behind her.

She exhaled deeply, and she could have sworn she heard him chuckle.

Although court was a trial of servitude, even Sakura couldn't deny that this the loveliest engagement party she'd ever attended.

The bride-to-be, Lady Hyuuga Hinata, was a vision in dusky pink, and Sakura's cousin, the heir to the throne, was a ball of exuberance next to her grace. She appeared to float as she walked, and he drew attention to himself like the sun. Following closely behind them was Itachi, dark eyes ever-watchful, ever-careful.

Something in his posture reminded her so much of Sasuke, and anticipating the tension, she easily maneuvered herself to wind her hand into the crook of his elbow, loosening the wound up muscles.

"Your Royal Highness," a vaguely familiar, mischievous voice called, and she turned to the side, her long hair sweeping over her right shoulder as she did.

She blinked. "Uncle?"

His grin was distressingly familiar, and he bowed deeply in response to her automatic curtsey. Her heart pounded in her head, and all the plans she had made fell between her and the world. Her free hand was now cradled in his larger ones, and against her satin gloves he pressed a kiss. "It's good to see you. And didn't I tell you to call me Nawaki? We're nearly the same age, after all."

Sakura's happy glow had flushed out of her skin, leaving her paler than normal. Her voice shook a little despite the undeniable fire of conviction in her eyes. "It's…wonderful to see you as well. When did you arri—" she cut herself off, her thoughts overrunning each other. "I have something for you."

Even Sasuke, knower of all her secrets, was perplexed. "Oh?"

Pulling the precious gold chain out from beneath her dress, she unearthed the jade pendant only to undo the clasp and tuck the necklace in Nawaki's palm.

"I know I'm breaking tradition, but…well, I'll get it back if and when I have a child. I know how much you wanted to be king when you were little, and I think my mother, your eldest sister, even if she says otherwise, wanted you to have it before I came along."

Nawaki looked stunned against the background of tapestries and gentle laughter. There was a large berth around them, and the nobles playing the wallflower looked on curiously at the exchange.

"I—thank you, Princess," he said, voice cracking in a way that it hadn't done in years as he bowed deeply.

She made to plaster a smile on her lips but upon noticing the approaching footsteps, she swapped it out for her own deep bow of deference.

"Your Majesty," Sasuke was the first to speak, Sakura and Nawaki echoing the sentiment closely behind.

The smile Queen Kushina had playing at her lips made Sakura cock her head to the side. "My dear niece," the older woman began with a sigh, taking both Sakura's hands into her own and pulling her into a hug. "It is so good to see you after so long."

Sakura's beryl eyes watered under the veil of deception, breathing in the heady rush of power.

She could still feel Sasuke's imprint at her neck, the feel of his lips on hers. _A touch that ignites, _her mother had called the feeling years ago.

"Well don't you just shine up like a new gem!" Kushina laughed delightedly, all genuine and benevolent, taking a few steps backwards to examine Sakura as her fingers tucked the stands of stray pink hair behind Sakura's bejeweled ears.

From over the Queen's shoulders, somewhat tuning out the excited chattering, she met Sasuke's gaze steadily, finding the safe harbor, finding her way home.

—

(the student becomes the teacher)

"Just trust me," he said between pants, breath hot against the corner of her mouth. Her lips were a slick, swollen pink, her hands unable to stop tracing over the lines of his body.

She couldn't look away from his eyes. "There's nobody I trust more," she managed, eyelashes wet from blinking back the sudden tears. "You know that."

His mouth brushed against hers again, a kiss so soft that her eyes watered again, the upheaval of emotion getting to her. Her pulse leaped, toes tracing against the sides of his calves, fingers ghosting over his abs. He rolled them over without warning, and she used the leverage to push herself up on him, surprised. "What…are you doing?"

One hand cupped her bare breast while the other went to bury itself in her soft hair.

"I want you to do this, not me. I want," the words came haltingly, "you to give yourself this. I don't want to hurt you, and it's your virginity—"

She shook her head determinedly, pulling the hand from her breast and guiding it down to her core. His gaze darkened as she pressed the tips of his fingers between her heated folds. "This," she breathed, breasts heaving, "has always been yours. And I trust you." She smiled then, continuing cajolingly as she slid his fingers deeper into her. "Besides, Sasuke-kun, being on the bottom doesn't mean I'm a submissive non-participant. Not if I choose it."

Rolling off of him, she pressed a kiss to his bicep, her fingers lacing between his to tug him back over her. She grazed his jaw with her teeth, moving upwards before capturing his mouth for her own, twining her tongue with his.

"When I'm with you," she began softly as he lined himself up with her, fingers traveling the length of her legs as he hooked them around his narrow hips, "I'm—"

He slid into her, and her bright eyes squeezed shut, all the air in her lungs leaving her at once, all her frayed nerves tied up neatly, all her thoughts finally, _finally_ quiet.

He kissed her soundly as he thrust again, and she gasped. His hand found its way back to hers, squeezing tightly. He found the word to finish her sentence. "Safe?"

She shook her head, smiling in wonderment, her free hand cupping his jaw. "Home."

—

(bravery)

The quiet mind didn't last long.

The itching need for change returned as a force to be reckoned with, and seeing the jade dangling around Nawaki's neck at the parliament session earlier that day only served to fire her up more.

The quick trip to the apothecary and greenhouse, her face hidden by the hooded cloak she wore, was all the beginnings of something close to cowardice.

Assassination, she knew, especially the quiet kind, was weakness. There was no bravery in being too pathetic to be able to face her opponent head on—none at all.

But she convinced herself this was what she needed. This is what her country needed. Education, vaccines, equality, a guiding hand, love, a better economy, a leader who was born royal but who learned from the people.

They needed her, and this was what she had to do.

She spent the afternoon in the back garden of the servant's quarters with a mortar and pestle, grinding her herbs into something lethal, placing the fine powder into a velvet pouch in her pocket. It stayed there, heavier than a bullet, as she let her ladies maids pull her hair back in an updo with a decorative ivory and silver comb, place diamond and pearl earrings on her ear lobes, and secure the back of her corset with nimble fingers.

She transferred it from the old dress pocket when nobody was looking and brought it along with her to the private dinner between the closest royals. She arrived early, gliding into the kitchen to peek into the dishes, charming comments spilling from her mouth like blood. The head chef, a nervous young woman, giggled, averting her eyes shyly at the barrage of compliments just as Sakura spilled the ashy powder into the stew, dissolving as it hit the surface.

Her fingers clenched into fists around the empty pouch, and she dumped it in the trash discreetly as she walked back to the dining room. Her hands tensed, and she bit the inside of her cheek, trying to regulate her breathing as best as she could.

She focused on the swirling patterns in the luxurious carpet, focused on the basket of fresh forget-me-nots in the center of the table, focused on anything but the way her heart threatened to leap out of her chest and onto the floor.

She watched as her cousins and other relatives filed in before finally having a conversation with Naruto—the first she'd had since childhood. She was placed between Karin and Nawaki, the both of them completely involved in the conversation, leaning forward eagerly. The courses came in one at a time; the stew, spooned carefully into pristine bowls, was the first to be served.

Sakura sipped exactly one spoon—enough to clear her name. Her eyes locked onto the jade necklace like a hawk, so aware of the way Nawaki's neck moved when he swallowed.

And then, a few moments later, the room descended into chaos as, across the table from her, Naruto collapsed. She stood immediately, the panic that she'd long suppressed bubbling up from beneath the numbness.

Her hands were shaking; she could still see how the whites in Naruto's eyes stood out even as her vision blurred with panic. All too clearly, she heard the second thump as Nawaki fell to the floor. "We need a doctor!" she screamed, the tone in her voice unrecognizable to her own ears.

She fell into the lessons she'd learned by heart, pressing her fingers to Naruto's pulse and then clambering to the table as the limited amount of poison in her system began to curl around her bones as well.

She grabbed for the glass of water and, the life liquid spilling everywhere from her erratic movements, nestled Naruto's head in her lap, opening his lips and forcing him to swallow. Her fingers felt for his forehead as she watched how his eyes focused and unfocused.

Distantly, she heard screaming and the rush of feet. Her head turned slowly, mechanically, to lock eyes with Nawaki who was still, so still. His glassy gaze was empty.

She clawed desperately at the gilded buttons on Naruto's tunic, losing control of the situation. Her nails chipped under the force, and she forced her eyes to return to Naruto's. "Stay with me," she said hoarsely, barely feeling the hot tears leaking from the corners of her eyes.

She only loosened her grip when medics pushed her out of the way, a few reassuring hands on her arms, and she swayed dizzily, the remnants of her own poison finally getting to her. "I don't know what to do," she said weakly. "I don't know—"

"That's okay," a voice said soothingly. "It's okay. We just need to get you to the medical ward."

"I don't know what to do when people leave," she whimpered, her voice small. Her eyes were unfocused, only clearing up when she heard the familiar call of _his_ voice in a terrified tone she'd never heard.

"_Sakura!_"

She blacked out.

—

(impulsive)

"I _knew_, even if no one else did. You should have told me," he snarled at her a week after she was released from the medical ward. She was curled up on the canapé, a blanket wrapped around her stiff shoulders. Her gaze was flinty as she stared into the flames of the fireplace.

"What? I should have told you _what? Oh, Sasuke-kun, I was wondering if you would lend me your hit man services so that I can impulsively kill a man to move up in line for the throne because nobody else understands what needs to change in this god forsaken country." _

He paced, the tension in his shoulders visible. "I would have said yes."

Sakura blinked. "You…what?"

"You would be a great leader," he said honestly, stopping in place as if to emphasize this point. But the pacing began again as quickly as it stopped, and a raw edge overtook his voice. "Fuck, Sakura, you are so lucky you didn't get caught."

Despite herself, she relaxed her guard, fingers playing with the tassels on the hem of the blanket. "I don't understand."

Sasuke sighed, raking his hand through his hair, seating himself next to her. "Anything for you," he said softly then, his fingers brushing her cheeks. "I would give the world for you."

She leaned sideways, her cheek meeting the crook of his neck. "It will not be beautiful," she warned. "It will not be brave. It will be selfish, and it will be broken."

He turned his chin, pressing his lips to the crown of her head. "Anything."

She stood, then, her bare feet soundless as she crossed the carpeted room to the cherry wood writing desk and pulled out the contract long ago signed in childhood. The contract that made his loyalty and his friendship and his love hers. She ripped her mother's seal open before taking a quill and dipping it in ink. He followed behind her, watching intently as she wrote at the bottom.

_I, Sasuke, give Sakura anything. _

She handed him the writing utensil, and he crossed out the last word, amending it with a better one. The sealing wax was always ready beside the fire, so after they refolded the contract in silence, they only had to pour a dollop of crimson.

He grabbed the signet ring kept on her desk with her family's coat of arms and placed it on her left ring finger. Sakura, with an exhale, pressed the engraving into the wax.

He took the contract from her, pulling her forward into a soft kiss. "We can't let anyone find this," he added as he pulled away to breathe, his forehead pressed against hers. "Not ever."

"The fire?"

"The fire."

Sasuke tossed the parchment into the flames, watching as the edges shriveled and blackened, the red seal melting again and running across the remaining paper like blood.

_I, Sasuke, give Sakura everything. _

"With you," Sasuke echoed between kisses, his fingers already working at the row of buttons down the back of her nightgown, "I'm home."

—

—

* * *

**notes:** a million and one thanks to sonya for rigorous editing, to les for a lot of screeching and love, to miko for a pair of fresh eyes, and to nicole for giving me the initial set of prompts to inspire me to conquer the one AU that I've wanted to do for years-regency.

but lastly, dedicated to the most recent wonderful chapter. happy sasusaku month!


	2. autumn

**born to blush unseen**—I know that we were made to break.

—

—

「autumn」_it's been a long time, sasuke-kun, but I don't think I will ever regret this. not the mind-shattering doubt, not the body count. after all, it brought me closer to you._

—

—

(a night with no stars)

That night, the sky was black and clouded, the world shrouded from the bright speckles of stars. The smell of ashes from the earlier funeral and cremation still lingered around her shoulders, whispered dark words into the ridges of her ears.

It was the sickly sweet smell of magnolias that she hated the most, though. It clung to her hair and her dress like cobwebs, and she desired nothing more than to take a long bath to rid herself of the stench: death.

The ocean mist was the only thing keeping her calm. The currents crashed and fell against the rocks, and she tried to match her breathing to the tides, her fingers a tight vice around her recently returned jade necklace.

"Cursed," the nurse had mumbled under her breath as she bowed deeply before handing her the chain.

Sakura supposed, fingering the smooth stone, that self-fulfilling prophecy only did serve to continue the jewelry piece's legacy.

She tried not to think about the playful light draining out of Nawaki's light brown eyes instead focusing on the ship rapidly approaching the docks, mast declaring itself from Mist.

Sasuke's heavy boots were audible against the briny wood, and he came to a stop just beside her, the only barrier between her and the rest of the military procession. She had volunteered to play the ambassador at the arrival of the Mist Prince, and the task had been given to her with a teary nod, encouraging her to "keep busy."

It was only when the unfamiliar confident footsteps fell to a stop in front of her that she snapped out of her reverie, a tired smile creasing her face. "Your Highness," she said automatically.

"Princess Sakura." The unfamiliar man's grin widened, his violet eyes scouring her funeral shrouded body with a certain lecherousness. "I am Mangetsu, only son of the honorable King Kisame. I have heard much about you! News of pretty young things travels fast, you see."

Sakura stared at him for a long moment, brain short-circuiting at the way he spoke to her breasts, before replying acridly, "Yes. That makes sense. It is unfortunate that news of death does not travel quite as fast or else we would have sent word sooner. Prince Nawaki has been assassinated. The funeral was today. I'm afraid that court life won't be nearly as diverting as it might have been a week ago."

Immediately, his eyes met hers. "Oh. Well, I am sorry to hear that. In any case, since our arrival was delayed by a storm, it would be delightful if we could head back to the castle. I'm sure you want to mourn, and I, for one, would like a bed that does not move."

She nodded hollowly, gesturing in front of her as the guard all bowed deeply as he passed, led by one of the maids she'd brought up with her.

She was about to follow after when a man with silver hair and a jaunty step caught her elbow before releasing her just as quickly, seeming to understand the misstep. "I apologize, your Highness. For, uh, grabbing you, but also on behalf of the Prince. My half-brother is…more interesting in waging all sorts of wars with his sword, if you understand my meaning."

Sakura raised an eyebrow incredulously. "I'm sorry? And you are?"

Behind her, she heard Sasuke cough to hide his chuckle.

"Suigetsu, my lady. Er, Lord Hozuki, now, I suppose. The Queen's bastard son in all his glory," he tacked on sarcastically, spreading his arms out before sobering quickly. "You have my deepest sympathies, by the way, for the loss your family has endured. It really is awful timing for us to show up. I'd heard great things about Prince Nawaki, as well. If you need anything at all, don't hesitate to ask."

Sakura examined him carefully, a smile playing at her lips all of a sudden. "Have you met the other princess, Karin? I think," she started carefully, as if treading on water vapor, "you might like her."

—

(silver lining)

Karin knew that all the council members expected her to marry this man. She wasn't stupid. Her dumb older brother had been given the privilege to fall in love…within reason. The Hyuuga heiress, with her unfathomably large fortune and her connections, fit the prescription.

It didn't hurt that she was absolutely smitten, either, doe eyes large with wonderment. It also didn't hurt that Naruto liked his women well endowed.

Karin wasn't quite so lucky. Sure, her waist to hip ratio was a gift to mankind, but that changed nothing about the rocky relationship between Leaf and Mist that had begun around the end of the Second Great War. Although her mother tried to hide her from this truth, she knew that conversations had been had. Conversations concerning her future as cattle to barter for peace.

All in the name of politics, she supposed. Just lay back and think of Konoha.

So she knew exactly what was expected of her when she traipsed into the guest's quarters to have tea with Mangetsu. She'd gone to Sakura the night before, worrying holes into her sleeves, wondering exactly how "friendly" she'd have to be to satisfy the spies that she knew would encompass the serving staff.

Sakura had told her that she should show off her nails but not be afraid to turn them into claws.

Karin was expecting the visit to be asinine, but she hadn't expected the debauchery.

The doors opened to a haze of smoke and women. Mangetsu was lounging on the floor, one scantily clad woman lighting candle wicks and another pouring glass after glass of something that she was sure was not water.

His dark eyes were hooded and when he turned to see her enter, he grinned lecherously. "Princess, take a seat."

A third woman whom she hadn't previously seen closed the doors with a soft click and a rattle. She frowned slightly upon assessing Karin up and down, shot her a sympathetic look, and mouthed an apology as she turned and sashayed back up to Mangetsu, curling up in his lap.

He winked. Karin felt nauseous.

"Is that…?" she managed, taking a hesitant step forward.

"Opium?" He offered, holding up a slim bamboo pipe lined in silver. Even the glittering ornamental designs couldn't take away the bloodshot eyes and the way one of the women's hands shook from holding a globule over the oil lamp.

The Alcohol Woman threw back a shot of what Karin safely guessed to be rum.

"I'm…sorry," she began mechanically. "I don't understand. Is this a bad time? I can come back later."

Mangetsu, however, didn't answer, too caught up in slipping his hand under the gown of the Door Woman, grabbing her breast roughly.

Karin stumbled backwards when the woman met her eyes again, clucking her tongue. "I'm sorry about this," she said blandly, evidently unaffected by his fondling. "It's how he is."

"Come, sit," he encouraged again, patting the empty space right next to him. "I had Lin pour you a glass already." Lin, she presumed, was the Alcohol Woman.

Karin shook her head, the heavy smoke making her eyes water. Mangetsu was unbothered, deeply inhaling from the pipe. "I'm really okay. I think I'm just going to go," she said slowly, hand reaching for the doorknob behind her.

He fixed her with a cold look. "Well, that's too bad. The door's locked from the inside, and I have the keys. Little Princess can't always get what she wants."

The blood drained out of her face.

The door swung open from behind her without warning, and her heart raced as she stumbled forward out of its radius. "Mangetsu?"

The figure poked his head out from behind the door, face half lit by a filmy lamp on the side. Her breath caught in her throat, and she took a tentative step backwards, unsure whether to expect a friend or a foe.

"What is it?" Mangetsu snapped, pulling his hand out from the Lap Woman's slip of a dress, her left breast spilling out the top. He shoved her off his lap and stood to face the newcomer. "What the fuck do you want?"

"Princess Sakura told me that I might find Princess Karin here…" he trailed off as his eyes fixed on the still smoking pipe in Mangetsu's hand. His gaze shifted to the three women, and then to Karin.

She stumbled forward and grasped his forearm like she was drowning and he was her life raft. Hastily, she nodded. "Yes, she wanted me to help her with Hinata's wedding plans. I'm afraid I must go."

Mangetsu narrowed his eyes, but the stranger shrugged.

She was out the door before Mangetsu could respond, not even bothering with a polite exit. Her footsteps were quick, and she didn't stop until she'd reached the courtyard, hands shoving the doors open to the fresh air. She gasped for a breath, hands finding purchase on a stone bench.

Her knees gave out beneath her, and she turned to slump on the seat, trembling. Her eyes focused on the rosemary bush on the opposite side of the cobblestone path.

"Are you okay?"

She jerked backwards as if stung, eyes filled with tears. The man had followed her.

"I'm fine," she said stiffly. "Just peachy."

He shuffled awkwardly in place. "Do you need me to get you anything? I can get Princess Sak—"

"No!" she said quickly. "No, no. I am…I am quite fine. I am—who are you?"

He grinned playfully, then. "Name's Suigetsu. It's an honor to meet you."

Neither of them noticed the flash of pink behind a topiary by the door, and neither of them noticed the soft creak as it opened just wide enough for a person to slip out.

—

(browning)

The warm weather wasn't quite gone. The shrubs might have been slowly crusting over; the sparrows might have been preparing for migration, but anyone could see that the vibrant look on Karin's face was summer through and through.

For Karin and Suigetsu, the cool breeze and drizzle was the spray of the tide, and the scarlet leaves were the thundering heat of the midafternoon sun. Their laughter filled the garden; not even the browning flowers sobered them up.

Sasuke and Sakura exchanged glances when Suigetsu's knuckles brushed Karin's one too many times. The pair strolled a few meters in front of Sakura and Sasuke, their conversation too hushed to follow.

Itachi walked as the lead of their five man squad. Security had been upped all around in the month following Nawaki's death, so Sasuke had been forced to interact with his brother on a more than regular basis. Their awkward silences and uncomfortable tension stemmed from the over-the-top rivalry they'd had in their younger years, and Sakura didn't need to squint to tell that it hadn't gone away with time. Sasuke had a propensity to overcorrect his bodyguard behavior when Itachi was present, and in turn, Itachi tended to be more formal, more _professional_ around Sasuke. Sakura was the welcomed buffer between the two.

"Sometimes he reminds me of you, you know," Sakura began conversationally.

"Excuse me?" He scoffed as though it was the most preposterous thing he'd ever heard of, but didn't turn to meet her gaze.

She shrugged, a smile playing at her lips. She folded her hands behind her back and hummed thoughtfully. "Well, you're definitely more talkative than him. But you both have the same idea of what's important. You walk the same, as well. And you share the same smile."

Sasuke scowled, shoulders stiff. "And how would you happen to know all of these _intimate_ details?"

She giggled, tipping her head back to watch the flock of crows scatter around the area. "I talked to him at the engagement ball. He's very…gentle, almost. Vigilant—even more so now that Naruto nearly died—and willing to do what it takes, but definitely soft," she paused here, their eyes meeting as she continued earnestly, "He reminds me so much of you."

Sasuke didn't respond, instead watching the way that Itachi walked, silky hair tied back into a low pony tail.

The sudden breeze ruffled her hair, and she picked up her pace slightly, using the rustle of leaves to cover her footsteps as she walked so that the budding couple were within earshot.

"He's much more of a bastard than you could ever be," Karin said truthfully, unfolded and open before him. "You have to know that."

He held her gaze for a few seconds, and then looked up at the arching branches from the oak trees they were passing beneath. He shrugged nonchalantly, a frown dipping at his thin lips. "Doesn't matter, in the end. He's the Prince, and I'm a knighted nobody."

She shook her head defiantly, her nails digging into his elbow. They slowed down, and Sakura, in turn, fell back, her shoulder brushing Sasuke's.

"You're more that. You're…" Karin fumbled for the words helplessly. "You're…stupid and reckless and foul-mouthed and crass—"

"I'm practically swooning," he interrupted.

"—but despite all of that, you're good. Genuine, even. What you see is what you get."

He barked a laugh. "Princess, in this world, that stuff isn't worth shit."

She swallowed, eyelids fluttering to hold back the hot tears welling up. "It's worth it to me."

Sakura slowed to a stop all together, watching as they walked out of earshot again, and she turned to squat at the bed of lavenders, fingering the small petals. Sasuke stood just behind her, and she grabbed his knee for balance when she wobbled on the balls of her feet.

"This is right," she said, the words like bile on her tongue. "Right?"

He didn't respond and only offered her a hand back up. She stood with his help, and she nodded, looking back at the crows. She repeated over and over, a valiant effort to convince herself, "This is so much righter. This has to be righter. It has to be, Sasuke-kun. It has to be."

—

(his side of the story)

It was the little things that gave him away: the clatter of his spoon against the pristine china cup, the barely audible but not silentsips when he drank his tea, and the gentle slur in his voice that was certainly not taught in a finishing school or by a high ranking governess.

It was painfully clear that although Suigetsu had royal blood in his veins, he was not royal.

Sakura loved it.

"You can call me Sakura," she told him when he finally set the ginger snaps down with a smack of his lips.

The mouth-melting angel cake he was eyeing from across the platter on the table between them was abruptly abandoned of his gaze as he stared at her in open-mouthed shock.

She smiled, her pink lips parting to expose her smooth teeth. "You're surprised," she laughed delightedly.

Sasuke, who was standing by the door, rolled his eyes. When she'd talked about this snack time with him earlier, talking about how with names came trust, and how with trust came belief in her words, Sasuke had side-eyed her for a while.

She could almost hear his snide comment. _Oh, what an absolute honor to call you by your name, your most fantastic highness. Allow me to lay down my life for you as a display of my utter gratitude. _

But Sakura knew how Suigetsu would interpret this truth. From his precarious position in Mist and his slowly worsening relationship with Mangetsu, one of the people who had sway over his fate, it was she who was doing a favor for him.

"I'm...speechless," he finally managed, slumping backwards in the ornate chair.

"I figured it was time," Sakura explained, taking the knife that the servant she'd dismissed had brought in to cut the cake. She stood for better leverage, leaning over as she sliced the fluffiest dessert she'd ever tasted.

She used the server to place it in his plate, smiling indulgently. "Besides, I know."

With the precision of someone who had learned the artistry of manipulation and food at the same time, she anticipated the question just as he gently cut into the treat. "Know what?"

She spooned vanilla custard over the array of blackberries and strawberries in the clear glass dish, placing it just in front of him as she smiled. "About you and Karin, of course."

Sasuke coughed to cover his chuckle, and Suigetsu froze, the delectable cake on the fork just approaching his open mouth. Sakura's attention was rapt by the way his grip tightened on the silverware, and she sat back down to enjoy her own thin slice of angel cake.

"Which is why," she continued cajolingly, "I figured it was about time you called me Sakura."

Sakura didn't need to look up from the cobalt and white china to see the gears turning in his mind as he weighed his options.

"I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about," he responded stiffly a beat too late, and she raised a precisely shaped eyebrow at him.

"Are we really going down that road? There's no need to deny it. We're all friends here."

Suigetsu's fork clattered noisily against the floor as he stood, features morphing into an angered snarl. "If you think you can fucking _threaten me—" _He made to grab at the dagger in his boot, but Sasuke was there before his arm could make it around. Sasuke grabbed his wrist in a vice grip and slammed it against the table, shattering plates in the process.

Sakura flinched, stumbling backwards as she trembled. Her hands went to grip at Sasuke's arm for stability, and he tipped her chin upwards with his free hand, calmly meeting petrified gaze. His fingers brushed over her cheekbones. "Are you okay?"

She didn't answer, taking the moment to breathe again. She slowly let her arms relax, never looking away from him as the look in her eyes melted into something deeper than Suigetsu was expecting, something much more tender. He watched them with an inhale of stunned understanding. "You're both..." he barely managed to get out, choking on his own shock.

Sakura turned towards him like she'd forgotten he existed, the color returning to her cheeks. She pulled out a worn map from underneath the plate of piping hot crumpets, sliding it over to him past the shards of glass. The fight dissolved from his lungs, his arm going limp, and Sasuke released him.

He unfolded the map with burgeoning comprehension.

"I know a love between you and Karin would never be allowed. The court's rules are all powerful. War would probably ensue from the snub to Mangetsu, really, even if your union ever was permissible. You'd be put to death," she paused, pointing a manicured finger to a destination on the map. "But between you and me," Sakura said earnestly as his sharp eyes snapped to hers, "love is worth it."

—

(her side of the story)

Karin came to her when the sky was dark and the stables were quiet. The horses whinnied softly, and she'd already saddled her chosen stallion. Her slippers were swapped for riding boots, her silks exchanged for loose cotton. Her red mane was hidden by a hooded cloak, and her jaw was set.

"Why...did you tell me to meet you here?" Sakura said, shivering into her downy ermine cloak.

"I'm leaving. I know you know. You don't have to pretend."

Sakura blinked rapidly as her eyes welled up with hot tears. "I...but...I want this for you, don't get me wrong, but this is so risky. And I'll have no one."

Karin smiled like she knew what sunshine tasted like. "You'll have Naruto, and I'll write when I can. I'll stay safe. "

Sakura nodded hollowly, pulling out a heavy pouch from her dress pocket. "This is for you." The heavy clink of gold coins felt as much like a grave as it did like a cradle.

"If they catch us-" Karin said, rushed.

Sakura shook her head, eyelashes lowered. "Let's not be naïve. Not if. When."

Karin sighed, skin looking translucent in the moonlight that shone from between the wooden slats on the roof. "When they catch us, I'll never tell how you helped. I promise."

Sakura threw her arms around the girl she'd never hugged before, not in all the years they'd known each other. Her fingers curled against the breezy fabric, and she breathed in Karin's smell-wealth and citrus. Her words were unintelligible against her shoulder.

"I'll miss you, too," Karin said thickly.

She used a stepstool to clamber up onto the saddle, legs settling on either side in the stirrups. Sakura reached upwards, clasping Karin's leather gloved hand in her bare one.

"Be happy."

She nodded, and with a swift backwards kick, galloped out of the stable to meet the other horse waiting just on the horizon.

Sasuke stepped out of the shadows, and she clasped his hand in her own, gripping tightly. "It's done," she whimpered, eyes red rimmed and puffy as more tears leaked out from the corners. Images of brown irises growing glassy flashed before her, images of her mother's gasping sobs amongst a constellation of broken liquor bottles.

He squeezed her hand back reassuringly, pulling her to his chest as she burrowed herself there, finally letting the wails override her sensibilities.

"This is right," she whispered over and over again between hiccups. "This is right."

—

(indestructible)

It took the Royal Guard 10 hours to officially declare Karin as missing. It took them another 2 to realize Suigetsu was gone as well, and then another 10 minutes to bring the matter to parliament where, within minutes, the officially declared the situation a kidnapping.

It was the only session of parliament that Sakura had ever been silent in. Normally, amongst the sea of chairs, she was quick to interject her opinion about a variety of matters.

_No,_ Sakura's steady voice would carry. _We cannot raise taxes on potatoes. We need the common folk to find them accessible. It's cheap to produce, and it's filling. If we want them to last the winter, and if we want have a kingdom to rule, you cannot starve your subjects by inflicting less than necessary taxes. _

And while her opinion hadn't outright won, the matter had been pushed to a later date to revisit.

But today, amongst the sea of roaring men's voices, she was silent.

"An arrest warrant for the scoundrel!" one man shouted aggressively, red at the face.

"Dead or alive!" another voice cried out, eyes glazed with the lust of battle.

"We'll pillage the villages! We'll raze the fields!" the original man shouted.

Even propositions for war against Mist arose, and the only plan of action they settled on was barricading Mangetsu from leaving. "Nobody in, nobody out. If Mist wants their precious Prince back, they'll have to provide some answers."

That day, the angered voices deafening her ears, she learned that no plan was flawless. Some small part of her had hoped that it wouldn't be noticed, that there would be no consequences. In between staring at old oil paintings on the walls and fingering the pages of the book on attracting men that Karin had loaned to her, she had convinced herself that it was still happening.

That Karin was here, that Nawaki was alive, that court life was still blooming. That _she_ was still blooming, as if everything inside her hadn't come to an abrupt standstill the moment she released the powder into the pot.

The heavy tension that followed her presence, the sympathizing looks, and the endless procession of black clothes were oppressing. The empty halls echoed like a coffin; the clocks ticked like a countdown.

She ended up in a dead sprint down the hallways into tower library nobody visited, bursting through the doors to finger the books desperately, wondering if there was a guide or a catalog to peace. He appeared as he always did, hands shoved in his pockets, dark eyes unimaginably soft. "You need to breathe," he instructed without preamble.

His fingers brushed where her ribs were crushed by her dress, and without warning she was on him like fire, burning up everything in her path. Her hands immediately dropped to his pants, sliding her hand against the growing hardness beneath the crotch of his pants.

He didn't bother to protest. He hurried to push down the wide neckline of her dress, stretching the lace seams to press hard, sucking kisses against the column of her neck. She gasped when he scraped her skin with his teeth, and in response she quickly undid the belt of his pants, sliding her hand in, skin against skin.

He hissed, pulling her closer, and he turned her around so she was flat against the bookcase. Her nails chipped against the shelving as she sought stability with reckless fingers, and he tore the buttons off the back of her dress, pushing down the front to further expose her heaving breasts barely constrained by the corset.

Fabric was everywhere as he hiked up the skirt of her dress from behind, pushing down her underwear.

"I have to be indestructible," she exhaled heavily, turning her head to look him in the eyes. The world slowed down for them, and even in the haze of desperation, there was an unbreakable trust between their breaths.

His kiss-swollen lips sought hers again, pushing her further against the books, the sharper spines digging awkwardly into her torso. "Don't be gentle with me," she murmured against his lips. "I won't break."

He parted her legs further and hastily shoved his pants down more to allow for easier movement just before he speared upwards into her slick heat. She cried out into his mouth, and he swallowed her pleasured moans as he rocked against her, groans from deep within his diaphragm coming to the surface like steam.

His hand came up to squeeze and fondle her partially exposed breasts, the other too busy keeping its place at her hip, holding up the bottom of her dress and branding his palm into her skin.

She sought the rhythm he was building, and when she managed to rip her mouth from his in those final moments, her bottom pressed against him, she groaned, forehead slick with sweat, resting against the botany books.

As the sated haze cloyed at her skin, she slumped against him boneless, and he found her hand again, rubbing slow circles into the back of her palm. Neither of them moved for a while.

The library was quiet.

"You feel like a drug," she crooned lazily as he pressed a gentle kiss to her temple. "You make me feel like I can do anything in the world."

—

(monster)

Sasuke was the only thing tethering her to the ground, she knew. She was a kite, up in the clouds, ready to flee with the wind as soon as a storm came. He was the line, the string, the hands, the person who held on. He never let go.

It was in these moments that she felt most grounded, as if he'd sucked out all the monstrous bits of her mind with his gentle lips. It was in these moments that the swirling memories came back to her like the tide, enveloping her in a thousand years' worth of adventure.

With her silky thighs settled around him, his nose just brushing against hers, she felt most human. She was most whole.

He unwound her, and all of her secrets laid between them like shrapnel that had never made the mark. After all, all those years ago when they first met, he was the one who had taught her how best to hide.

In these slow moments, the cool sheets against her back, the morning sun slow, she could almost feel the long grass around her calves. His touch was the cool foggy breeze against her back, his whispers the trickle of sunlight from beyond the clouds.

The only difference was that now, more than a decade later, he had found her over and over again. Their childhood game was over.

He had seen the rot in her bones, felt the decay in her mildewed mind, and still, as her hands slid up around his broad shoulders and his hips pressed into hers, he managed to love her.

Neither of them admitted to any such attachment, but it was there, in the way he insisted on holding her hand, the way he nudged her hair out of her face, the way he got into long arguments with her about what constituted safety.

Even, on special days, in the way he said good morning.

He loved her, all of her calloused, untouched and cold parts which were his and his alone. He saw the way black tar was beginning to take her heart as its casualty, and he held on anyway.

"If we…if our relationship," she corrected herself softly, lips brushing his ear lobe, "was a crime scene, then every freckle dotting my spine is a blood stain. One," she pointed out, "that all the kisses in the world cannot get rid of."

"Watch me," he replied, voice raspy.

"Sometimes," she said, her hands sliding against his sharp shoulder blades, "I barely feel human."

Sasuke shook his head, tucking her hair neatly around her ear.

"You always are."

—

(dropping your guard)

"Found you," he said out of nowhere, footsteps silent even against the crisp grass. She jerked backwards in surprise, and hissed when the flowers she'd been tending to turned on her, claiming vengeance in the ways of ripped skin.

The rose thorn sliced open the flesh of her wrist in the slow, almost beautiful manner of destruction, taking apart the cells without fuss. Ruby blood beaded to the surface, and Sakura's mouth set unhappily.

"I wasn't hiding," she said snippily, staring intently at smarting scrape.

"You should've worn the gardening gloves," he hummed from behind her, ignoring the scowl on her face, his own hand coming up to cup hers.

She jerked away from his touch, her jaw tense. "I don't need to be reprimanded," she replied primly.

There was a deep sigh, and then only the rustling of field grass. She didn't need to turn around from her pruning hobby to know the chastising look on his face. Instead, she focused on mopping up the mess with her finger, wiping it off onto the petals of the rose in her hand, the dark red staining the light pink.

"Forgive me," he sighed finally, and she turned on her heel to face him, tilting her chin upwards to meet his gaze. She scrutinized the tone in the truth of his words, and then let her shoulders sag from their tight posture, glancing around the vacant garden before giving in and leaning her forehead against his chest.

"There's nothing to forgive, Sasuke," she whispered, lips barely moving, faintly brushing against the heavy brocade of his top. "There never is."

His lips touched the crown of her head, nose burying itself in her soft, blush-colored strands. The rose slipped from her fingers and hit the ground softly, forgotten.

"I know."

—

(rusty)

In the following weeks, they snuck out every single day. She cloaked her head, kept her face low, and became familiar with the contours of the dirt path leading to the nearby village. He pushed the cart along, a wide-brimmed straw hat shadowing his distinctive, aristocratic features.

Just traders, she and her partner, lugging a cart of goat's milk, the rusty wheels creaking along as they escaped the brick and mortar and wrought iron fences they struggled to live behind.

Her pockets were filled with large bags of healing turmeric, his bottles filled with spark rocks.

And for a few hours a day, in the straw and wooden constructed huts, weaving amongst the crowds, the tension oozed out of Sakura and she felt normal. Even amongst the heavy threat of the plague, the ashes swirling up from the chimney, she felt at home. Like she was finally, finally doing something useful.

Alive.

There was no complete deference, no formalities. Just her, the drizzle, the wind, and her hands pushing forward to something better.

Her mother had taught her everything she knew about medicine, and Sakura intended to use it.

They stopped at the edge of the Nakano River on the way back, Sakura to dip her boots into the river and shed her cloak for her finery and Sasuke to wash out the blood stains from his hands. While she had been watching over him carefully, he had sutured up a farmer whose hand went through a pitchfork.

Somehow, she ended up waist deep in the water, seaweed from the delta curling around her ankles. The current was lazy, and it wasn't until the splash of blond was close did she register who the newcomer was.

"Naruto," she said with surprise, the ends of hair slick with saltwater. "I…where's Itachi?"

The once bright blue eyes had dulled, and he shrugged. "Dunno. I ditched him."

Sasuke, who was further down the river, turned to draw his eyebrows together in surprise and concern.

All was silent as Naruto tugged off his boots, rolling up the luxurious material of his pants. Without any finesse, he took a wild leap from beyond the trees, careening into the water, flailing limbs and all. The force of his belly flop was a loud slap, and water sprayed everywhere.

He surfaced, moaning about bruising, but upon seeing the stray leaves that had somehow ended up in Sakura's hair and the splattered dirty water, the chuckles overtook him, and soon he was doubled over in laughter.

It was a testament to how utterly ruined up their lives were when she didn't find it the slightest bit unusual when he abruptly dissolved into a raw, hiccupping sob.

"I miss her," he said hoarsely, and Sakura's eyes were glassy as she approached him, arms outstretched for a hug. His large arms wrapped around her tiny waist, and he tucked his head into her neck, the grief pulling him under just as the river threatened to do.

Sakura couldn't bear to look him in the eyes when he pulled back, and even in the distance she could see the smoke curling up from the burning of diseased bodies in the distance. She could still see the wanted posters glued haphazardly to notice boards and the way Karin shrunk into the distance as she escaped.

There was mud still under her fingernails as her brow furrowed, and hot tears slipped out of the corner of her eyes. She couldn't let the regret drown her now—not when she had so much to fight for.

The echoes of a child's cries, a child with gangrene, erupted in her ears.

She could still see Karin's smile.

"So do I."

—

(my mistake)

She left at night.

The justification was written in the itching under her skin, and the process was in the basket she carried. A stack of books to teach reading and math, a few syringes loaded with illegal vaccines, the latter of which was colloquially referred to as the devil's work in parliament. And underneath them all, knitted sweaters of fine cashmere and blankets to outlast the cold.

Brandy, she knew, only went so far to heat the bones, and winter was coming.

She'd let her heart bleed for them before they died.

No one in court, no matter how much she tried, would ever acknowledge that science or education was worth anything for the common people. She wanted the enlightenment, and she wanted it now.

Her footsteps were slippery against the rain-slicked grass.

There was no path, just the faint glowing of torches in the distance to assure her that civilization was in the right direction.

Her hands were shaking by the time she'd gotten halfway there, and the constant reel of death that she had caused followed her around. She could not prevent the ice in her joints, and her eyes grew wet when she realized how far she'd fallen for a cause.

Her foot sloshed in a puddle, pulling up yet another dead-or-alive poster for Suigetsu. He was proof, she knew, that people without nobility in their veins could amount to something brilliant. Their love, wherever the two of them were, was proof that her people were not defined by their titles but by what they made of their time on this wretched earth.

She barely heard the thumping hooves approach, but she acutely felt his hand curl around her forearm, tugging her to face him.

The sky rumbled when she fell forward into his chest, his arms tightening around her waist securely. His head tucked cleanly on top of hers, and she wept quietly into the rough material of his cloak. "I think I've made too many mistakes. This…I shouldn't have ever come here. I should have never…"

He didn't say anything, instead tightening his hold on her, her only anchor. It began to drizzle lightly.

"They can't run forever. And when they get caught, he'll die. War will begin, and Karin will be broken. I might as well have killed them both myself. I'm…trying _so hard_," she said, voice tight, "to convince myself that this is worth it. I'm—"

She choked on her own words, hiccupping as her shoulders tensed. "I don't know if I believe it anymore, but I'm in too deep. This has to be worth it. This…change has to be enough to wipe away all the blood on my hands. It has to be worth it. I…I don't know what I'll do if it isn't."

And finally, he responded, pulling away just enough to press his forehead to hers. His eyes were the same as the night sky. "No more of this. At least, for a while. They," he nudged his chin towards the village, "can wait. Your happiness and your sanity cannot."

"We at least have to drop this off. One last trip. I need to—"

"No more."

She exhaled, and lightning flashed briefly, illuminating everything in a burst of light before darkness swallowed it again.

There were no stars.

"Take me away."

—

—

* * *

**notes:** this has been an emotional upheaval-esque time for the past ten days, from 685 to my own personal frustrations, insecurities, car problems, and hormones. I wish I could hug the people that have been there for me through it all, but I'll just thank les and sonya for being there for me through it all.

I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, and thank you for reading!


	3. winter

**born to blush unseen**—I know that we were made to break.

—

—

「winter」_your love—no, our love —is perhaps the greatest adventure the world that we gave so much for has ever and will ever know._

_—_

_—_

(rewind the time)

Twenty two and wearing men's breeches under her dress, she'd never felt more alive. The carnations were dead, but the imported watermelon slices and the hot chocolate almost made her feel like she were in another time, in a place just beyond her memory.

Her grin was wider than it had been in months, her eyes brighter, and not the hair caught in her mouth nor the darkening sky could take her away from this whimsy.

She, as she would proudly recall later on, had just spent the better part of the afternoon racing around the large fields and darting behind carefully pruned bushes playing hide and seek like they were six again. Finally, after months of being here, she felt alive.

The wind was brisk when she lounged against the steps, kicking off the shoes she'd muddied up as she leaned against Sasuke leisurely.

The garden was empty, and in a place where the walls had eyes, she finally felt blissfully alone.

"I want it to be like this forever," she sighed, nuzzling his arm with her nose. "I want to eat ice cream all day and sleep until one and go horseback riding until the sun sets. Then, I want to read until we retire to our room. I want to be with you every single night in a bed that is ours."

He peered down at her from the length of his nose, raising his glass of water to his lips. "Mm," he assented.

"I want to marry you." Her eyes were large and yearning, the longing bubbling up in her throat like hot water. The words left her lips like steam, and in that moment, the clamoring need inside of her had been silenced. Her eyes grew glassy, and she sucked in air greedily like she was about to run out, like everything was about to run out.

She'd never wanted anything like she wanted him in that moment.

He stared at her, stunned, and abruptly, she shook her head before he could respond, burying her face in her hands. "Why did I say that? Why do I say these things? I ruined it. This afternoon was perfect and just ours, and I ruined it."

"I want to marry you, too."

Her hands clapped to her mouth, and she looked more distraught than he'd ever seen her.

"But," he said slowly, "I want you to be happy. And marrying me won't give you that. I'd have whisked you away years ago if that were the case."

Something in his voice sounded acrid, and Sakura flinched.

He looked away, twirling a fruit fork between his fingers as his lips tightened. "At the end of the day, you don't want me. You want to change the world."

"Who says I can't have both?" she interjected.

He shook his head, and the wind blew around them again. Her hands, having searched for something to do for a while, took the opportunity to tuck her long hair behind her ears.

The heavy bells striking the hour cut through the tense silence. She stood to her feet and helped him up, clearing all the food onto the silver tray before settling it onto the unused patio table for the maids to clean.

She rearranged the skirt of her dress, unable to meet his eyes as the words stuck in her throat like wax. "This almost made me forget," she whispered after a long moment, and he turned to look at her curiously.

"Forget?"

She smiled bitterly. "What we are."

"And what are we?"

She turned away, making headway for the parliament meeting that was starting in a few moments. She bent down to slip on new shoes. Turning over her shoulder briefly, she looked at Sasuke like he was an impossibility. "A dream. And every time I leave you, I have to wake up."

—

(exposed)

She didn't know when, exactly, she'd forgotten about the silver tray with the steaming soup on the side table. Somewhere between the snow melting against the warm window and the sneezing ("skeleton syndrome!" the maids had cried before promptly quarantining her) and the hot, sucking kisses, she'd dropped the spoon on the plush carpet and wound up arched against the chaise.

This, she knew, was how he unraveled her, exposed her most tender parts.

She didn't know quite when their relationship had devolved into calculated plans and hot-blooded trysts, but she couldn't recall the last time they'd just sat and had a conversation about something other than her burgeoning lust for the throne.

It seemed, these days, that this was all that remained of her. Just her heavy breaths, clammy hands, and the ever-growing hunger for change.

Her hands raked through his hair, holding nothing back as he kissed a wet trail from her shoulder to the curve of her breast. She held nothing back when he suckled her nipple into his mouth, and her fingers flexed as she moaned, eyes unfocusing.

But as soon as he'd let go, the echoes returned, bringing a shadow of thoughts that had always lingered. "I need it," she gasped when he buried his head between her thighs, breathing fire into her. His fingers drew sparks from her skin, and he wasted no time lightly grazing her inner thigh before leaving a puckered, pink mark behind.

"Need it?" he asked hoarsely, eyes heavy lidded as he ducked back down.

"I need it like sharks need blood." She gripped his broad shoulders to tug him back up, pressing insistent kisses along his jaw before pushing him onto his back abruptly, straddling him. "I'm so…" she breathed, gaze desperate in a way that was slowly starting to become normal. "I'm so drunk on this ride."

"Hey," he said suddenly, fingers turning her chin towards him. She stared at how long his eyelashes were, trying to concentrate on the sobriety in his tone. He stared at her like she was someone he knew every nook and cranny of, stared at her like she was evaporating before his eyes.

"What?"

He pushed himself up to kiss her already swollen lips, and she hummed into the gesture, toes curling before adjusting her hips and sliding onto him. He groaned, hands tickling over the lines of her ribs and making his mark on the thickness of her hips.

He looked away then, tracing along her forearms to locate her hands and lace their fingers together. She paused in her movements at the gesture and smiled the kind of smile he hadn't seen since before they came to this place. He sighed heavily, finally formulating the words: "Nothing."

—

(a hot cup of tea)

The room was quiet as she stirred in two spoonfuls of sugars into his black tea, sliding a lemon inside. "You know there are people who do this, right?" Naruto pointed out, watching her fingers close around the embossed end of the spoon.

Sakura smiled wanly. "Oh, I know, but I like to keep my hands busy." She pushed the cup over to him, steam slowly curling out of it.

She sat back down and pushed her long hair over her other shoulder, adjusting her winter shawl. Naruto had the bluest eyes she'd ever known.

From under the mahogany table, Sasuke squeezed her knee.

"How are you?" she asked carefully, the air quiet with Karin's absence. "I haven't talked to you since the…swimming incident."

Itachi, sitting next to Naruto, arched an eyebrow, gaze sharp. "Swimming incident?"

Naruto scratched the back of his head, self-conscious. "Ah, you know the day I went 'missing'…" he hedged, quick to change the topic. "I wish we'd talked sooner. When things weren't so..."

She nodded in assent. "I missed you," she admitted. "The last time we had a real conversation was…"

"Four years ago," he finished with a mischievous grin. "At your—"

"No!" she interrupted, cheeks flushing, and Sasuke smirked. "No, we don't talk about that day. Anyway," she tacked on quickly, "I wish Hinata could've come, but I suppose I can forgive her for having a fitting appointment with the tailor. She's going to be a beautiful bride."

Safely sidetracked, Naruto's full blown grin slid into a warm, crooked smile. He brought the tea to his lips, sipping thoughtfully. "I know. She'll be a great queen. She's so nice and so smart and she likes sneaking out of the palace to go get ramen from the street vendors."

Sakura laughed, eyes crinkling as the lies bled out of her gums. "I wish I could sneak out successfully, but you can't really hide pink hair. Besides, what with skeleton syndrome razing the countryside, I'm not sure I would even want to leave."

Naruto frowned, nodding. "Yeah. How is that, anyway? You always liked to keep up with the medical stuff."

She blinked owlishly. "You mean you don't know? Don't they give you updates about the state of the country?"

He squinted, folding his hands in front of him. "Well, yes, but…I mean, they're so boring," he said, leaning forward in a stage whisper. "I don't care about the price of cotton, you know?"

Sakura stilled, a carefully schooled smile on her face as she chuckled. "I suppose, I suppose. But don't you want to change anything? You're going to be king soon, after all."

Naruto sat back in his chair, and Sasuke's hand found hers, lacing their fingers together. She didn't dare meet his eyes. "I…well, the country's pretty steady. I like doing charity work, so I think I'll keep up with that. I want to care about my people, but at the same time, I don't want it to consume my life. I want my life to be mine first, the kingdom's second."

Her jaw tightened. "So what does that entail? A life without sacrifice?" she inquired softly, pulling her hand from Sasuke's as she gripped her seat, suddenly nauseated by the conversation.

"Building orphanages, cleaning up the water, and maybe shaking things up and declaring war against Mist."

Her voice was hollow. "War?" she echoed dully.

The cup met the saucer with a decisive click as he set it down, leaning forward intensely. "They took my sister," he said hoarsely, his eyes lancing with dull pain. "They have to pay. They have to _fucking_ pay."

In those moments, the floral wallpaper swirled around her and the cup trembled in her hand. Her feet tensed in her shoes. "What of the sickness?"

Blood rushed to her head, and she couldn't figure out if the stirring feeling in her lungs was the beginnings of a scream or shots of adrenaline.

He shrugged, oblivious to her internal crisis. "It will pass. It always does."

Her lips tightened at the corners, and she dug in her pocket for the velvet pouch, the material slippery against her bare hands. "This is for you," she announced, passing it over to him, eyes downcast. "I…gave it to Nawaki, because as a kid he'd wanted to be king. And now I'm giving it to you, because you're about to be. I know they say it's cursed," she added slowly, words thick on her tongue, "but it's always been good to me. And I think…he would've wanted you to have it."

Naruto tugged on the strings of the pouch, and the necklace fell onto the table with a gentle clatter, jade glinting in the candlelight.

His eyes grew wet, and he grasped her free hand on the table tightly. "Thank you," he rasped. "Thank you."

The snow fell against the floor to ceiling windows on the left side of the room, and the air retreated into silence. She looked away, and something inside of her that felt like hope flickered into darkness.

—

(glory)

There was something tragically ironic about the afternoon that Naruto wed Hinata. The event was held in the rose garden where no roses were blooming, with a backdrop of snow purer than the people who milled around on it.

The stark whiteness was almost unnerving if not for the red river lilies shooting up through the snow around the walkway. Those, and the evergreen trees, were the only things that made the event feel more like a celebration and less like the medical ward in the castle.

Sakura had a front row seat to the event, gown draped with a mink stole to ward off the cold. Her breath came in visible puffs, and the snowfall drifted onto her like feathers.

Naruto's ruby encrusted crown caught the light of the midafternoon sun as he watched Hinata glide down the aisle. Her gown was embroidered with mother of pearl, and her hair was pinned with sapphires, but what caught Sakura's attention most of all was the necklace glinting against Naruto's full military regalia.

Her jade gift.

The wedding was beautiful, she supposed, in a disconnected kind of way. But in some kind of fantasy world where she married Sasuke, she knew it would be nothing like this. It would be the two of them under the warm sun in the early morning, when the world was asleep and the place was their own.

It would be simple, and it would be theirs.

This wedding, she knew, was less for Naruto's adoration of Hinata but for the public to know that their future ruler had a woman to plant his progeny in.

The public, she thought with a bitter smile, who wasn't even here, instead caught behind the large golden gates, declaring their fealty to their ruler in exchange for something, anything better than what they had now. Dressed in rags and cheeks red, she could still hear the echoes of their cries from when her personal procession passed close by the gates.

She bowed her head as the service began, and her hand sought out Sasuke's instinctively, gloved fingers tracing the veins along the back of his palm.

Something in the tremble of Hinata's voice when she declared herself felt like both a loss and a victory in those moments. The gold of the crown called to her, and it felt like the promise of something bigger, felt like glory.

He turned his hand over to lace their fingers together, and he squeezed gently.

Felt like a possibility.

—

(the other side of the wall)

"Oh, how awful," Hinata whispered softly next to her, voice tight. "How utterly..."

Sakura smiled bitterly. "Whatever are you talking about? The blood leaking out of their eyes are tears of _joy_-they must be. What a favor we're doing for them-quarantining them off in a hovel."

Children shuffled around them, and the scissors felt heavy in her hand. Not the red ribbon or the thick veneer on the poor excuse for floorboards disguised this place for what it was: anything but a home.

Something that could have either been vomit or porridge was crusted on the corners of the mouth of a little girl, her face flushed. She stared at the two of them in wonder before sneezing violently, blood beading out of the corners of her eyes.

"M'...my ma' is gon' be sleep for a real long time," she said hollowly, deep magenta hair sliding through the blood running down her face. "Can y'wake her up?"

Hinata gasped a sob, turning away, and Sakura knelt before the girl, brushing the hair out of her eyes and wiping away the blood and tears. "I'm afraid I can't."

At eye level, her ribs showed through her thin smock of a shirt, and it seemed that the baby fat in her face was all she had left. "Why not?"

"She's got to have her beauty rest. You'll be sleeping right with her soon, though. You'll both dream wonderful dreams together."

The girl's grimy hands tugged at her gown, scrunching the stiff material, looking off to the side, eyes more sunken and more aged than any child's should have ever ought to have been.

Sakura stood up and looked away, passing her scissors to Hinata with a nudge forward. "You can do the honors."

The crowd hushed, and from the corner of her eye, she saw Sasuke, Itachi, and Shisui exchanging words near the edge.

The ribbon split easily, falling away to open the orphanage, and the spectators clapped politely. "Oh yes," Sakura muttered beneath the noise of the crowd. "How generous of us to give them a shelter to die in."

Small hands nudged at Sakura's knee softly, and she looked down to see the girl from before looking for her pleadingly.

"Miss, thank you."

Sakura's eyebrows drew together in concern. "What…for?"

The magenta swept behind her grimy ears, and Sakura fought the urge to pick up the girl and take her back to the palace for a hot bath.

"For bein' there."

—

(staying warm)

The embers of their fireplace crackled and popped, and with a small stretch, she rolled her shoulder muscles and nudged his arms apart, taking up residence against his warmth.

The heavy comforter she'd dragged from her bed across the room was pooled around them, and after situating herself in his lap, nose buried in his neck and eyelashes fluttering against his skin, she tugged up the back of his tunic, sliding her icy fingers against his back muscles.

He tensed up, scowling. "Stop that."

Her lips pulled into a smile, and she mumbled against his skin. "But you're so warm."

He sighed heavily, raking a hand through his hair.

"Let's play a game," she suggested after a moment, peeking up at him, eyes wide and excited.

"It's cold. There's no time for games."

"It'll be a warm game. I draw something on your back, and you guess what it is."

Without waiting for him to agree, she clambered out of his lap, moving aside the piles of blankets to sit just behind him, one leg on either side of his body. She lifted the embroidered comforter up and around her shoulders, throwing the ends on his lap.

Pulling up the back of his tunic again, she set to work, observing closely the light freckles he had in the middle, the Venus dimples just above his butt, the strange birthmark that lay between his neck and shoulder.

She traced over the scar that sliced his back just behind his heart and bit her lip. "What to draw..."

He sighed, turning his head as she wormed her fingers around the front to his flat, ridged stomach, her cheek nestled between his shoulder blades.

"I don't know. You were the one that wanted to play this ridiculous game."

She frowned, affronted. "It's not ridiculous. You're ridiculous." With a second glance at the scar, her eyes lit up and she began to write. "It's a word," she added, tracing invisible calligraphy onto his back.

All was silent for a moment as he concentrated on the feeling, and she concentrated on her work.

"Lucky," he replied finally just as she nuzzled his back with her face again.

"Yes," she paused, eyes watery. "I...I'm lucky. I'm so lucky."

He turned upon hearing the emotion searing her voice, peering curiously at her over his shoulder. "What?"

Her face filled with something that felt like happiness but looked like despair. "I'm so lucky to have you be mine."

—

(misguided)

The quiet mind had returned to haunt her.

Her hands shook that afternoon as she rested against the window seat, concentrating on breathing. The knife in her hands felt heavier than her heart, and she cradled the apple to her chest as she tried to peel it carefully.

The monotony of winter was beginning to claim Sakura as its victim, and no amount of wide-eyed bargaining at the moon could garner peace.

Between the heavy rains and lightning, and the slushy snow beneath the thickening sky, there was little to entertain. The last time she'd distracted herself was four days ago at the flower arranging class her distant cousin Ino had coerced her into taking. It had calmed her nerves, but Ino had returned back to her estate shortly after, and the weights had returned to rest on her shoulders without hesitation.

The red skin fell softly onto the bone china plate, and suddenly she was taken back to the dinner two seasons ago, the stew disconcertingly still in the elegant bowls. The chill that scurried down her back had jarred her hands enough that the sharp knife sliced open her hand.

She cried out at the swift onset of pain, and Sasuke was at her side immediately, taking the knife from her tight-knuckled grip and forcing her fascinated gaze away from the way the deep gash's blood fell like water.

The partially peeled apple rolled onto the floor, forgotten, and Sasuke ushered her up and towards the bathroom, anger already bubbling at the surface.

"What do you think you're even doing?" he snarled while forcing her trembling, dainty hand into the basin. He'd grabbed a flask of whiskey en route there, and with a considerable amount of dexterity, unscrewed the cap and poured it over her wound in the same motion.

She hissed, yanking her hand backwards, but his grip was tight. "No—what—"

"Was this some kind of misguided thought process on the next one? I _told_ you to let me take care of it."

"I was just cutting an apple," she said softly, eyes wet as he took a pitcher of warm water and doused her hand in it. "I was just eating a snack. I was just thinking."

"Is that what it's called these days when you completely remove yourself from the world for days on end only to end up playing with knives?"

She could have sworn that his callous words wounded her more deeply than the knife did, and Naruto's blue, blue eyes flashed before her.

"I…I don't…" her voice shook.

"What were you _thinking?" _

It became too much. The sky was too oppressive, Sasuke's words were too sharp, and her hand burned almost as much as her eyes did as he took cloth bandages and began to wrap up her palm. Her chin wobbled, and her lips pulled downward into a deeper frown.

"I don't know," she said, voice feeble as her emotions began to best her. Tears slipped down her face, and she wailed then, heaving sobs rising from her lungs like hot air. "I don't know what I'm doing. I don't know. I don't know. I don't—"

He let go of her hand, instead cradling her jaw and tilting her chin up. The serrated edge to his voice vanished, and he brushed away her tears. "Look at me."

Slowly, her glassy, red-rimmed eyes met his.

"I know you think you won't find peace until you're sitting on the throne, but there is no burden in this world that you have to carry alone. We'd agreed, remember? Anything for you." His arms came to wrap around her waist, pulling her close.

She leaned her forehead against his chest, head tucking neatly under his chin. "Everything, but together," she corrected softly.

He paused for a split second, but then pressed his lips against her forehead. "Everything."

—

(when the power fails)

She noticed he was gone when she got to the nine hundredth crane. Ever since the apple incident two weeks ago, she'd kept her hands busy by way of folding, on sheaves of stunning floral papers, a thousand paper cranes.

Maybe then, she'd thought, she'd be able to get all her wishes to come true.

She'd woken up that Sunday wrapped in a quilt on her bed, his hand rubbing circles into her back as he coaxed her to wake up and eat. He'd been unusually attentive—buttering her toast for her, pouring the tea, pressing the kisses to the nape of her neck.

He'd clutched at her sides like she was smoke and he couldn't grapple with her, and she'd busied her fingers with gaining more paper cuts from her self-assigned origami task. He'd whispered that he'd be back shortly, slipped into some boots, and closed the door behind him with a soft click.

It was remarkable how long it took her to notice the missing weapons bag by her wardrobe, how normal his absence had seemed until the room had been quiet for too long and a chill raced down her spine. The teacup in her hand shattered as it hit the ground, and she was running.

She trampled on the paper cranes littering her floor as she shoved her feet into riding boots insistently, not bothering to change out of the nightgown as she raced out, steps never more desperate than they were then.

She bolted from room to room, insisting upon seeing a grieving Kushina, waking a groggy Hinata, hands shaking and eyes blurring with tears. Naruto's new bride and mumbled about how he'd gone out early to spar, and her limbs went numb.

It was one of those dreams where she could never get there fast enough, where every step felt like she'd had a graveyard of bodies clinging to her ankles. She could feel his lips on her skin, his words in the shell of her ear, the sound of sand trickling to the bottom of an hour glass that she didn't know was counting down until now.

Nobody had ever meant more to her, and there was nothing she was more desperate to keep.

She needed him.

Her hands were ice against the doorway to the courtyard, and as soon as the doors were open, the cold settled in.

They were by the fountain, and she stumbled forward to her knees, snow soaking her thin nightgown. Her eyes were bloodshot, welling up with tears, as she processed the scene.

This was how Sakura's dream came true:

Naruto's body prone half in the marble fountain, neck sliced open and dark red pooling into the icy water. Snow collecting on his collarbones, his cheekbones, and the katana dropped, forgotten. The snow spattered with scarlet, his blue eyes dull and open in a permanent expression of horror.

Something in the image begged to be painted, this almost breathtaking disaster. She could practically hear the echoes of Sai's words, about how accurate her art had been.

This was how Sakura's dream fell apart at the seams, how her power failed:

Sasuke.

Sasuke, a sword slicing through his chest, his eyes blearily focusing on her form, and his skin paler than it would ever be. She choked on a sob, and she crawled forward, her knees soaking up blood. Her hands shook as she cupped his chin, pressing her forehead to his.

"Why?" the words left her before she could hold them back.

His breaths were shallow against her lips, and she clung to his words, trying to keep her composure. Her lips trembled. "Because…" he began, voice husky, the words impossible to get out, "…we made a deal."

"W-what?"

"Anything, everything for you."

She couldn't get the last words out of her throat, the sentiment—the last, unspoken truth—clogging her arteries.

His eyes slid shut.

_I love you. _

It was so, so silent. Only her tears broke the white noise, sliding off the curve of her nose to patter against his cheek softly. "No," she finally found words to speak, voice cracking in despair. "Not like this."

This was how Sakura rose, victorious: on her knees, head bowed, with a sacrifice that she hadn't ever wanted to make at her feet.

—

(tattoo)

In an effort to not wear black, Sakura never left her room.

She didn't attend the funerals, didn't acknowledge the newly assigned body guard, didn't speak to anyone.

She was a husk, a barely-there vacant imagining of what she once used to be. Her mother had returned to her after months of grief only to watch her daughter pensively trace the edges of floral pressed bookmarks, curl her fingers around the jade necklace that had, once and for all, been given back to her.

She clutched the tear-soaked sheets, burying her nose in them, trying to catch the wisps of his scent leftover: soap and happiness. And there, on the edges, something indefinable that smelled like love.

Her face felt sunken, and people tip toed around her like she were made of paper. She'd barely had time to acknowledge her new rise in power, the new title of Crown Princess attached to her name. Instead, she was wrapped up in thoughts of him.

She regularly traced over the scar on her hand—a certifiable tattoo—from when the knife and slipped and wondered how she could have stopped this, wondered if this is what her father had meant when he talked about court being a type of prison.

No, she couldn't imagine this was it.

This, what she'd done, was so much worse. And the most abhorrent thing about it was that she was still getting compassion. Somehow, amidst the rising body count and the ultimate betrayal of her family, she'd managed to garner sympathy.

The black tar that had one tainted her heart had claimed it fully, and with every glance at the window, she felt something in her harden.

It couldn't be in vain—that much she knew.

He couldn't have left her, couldn't have left this world, for her to mourn until her days ran out.

It couldn't be for nothing.

So after two weeks of minimal movement and an even more minimal diet, she shifted out of her bed, standing suddenly. Her ladies' maids all stood at once, looking surprised at the shift. Her gaze was determined.

"Draw a bath," she declared, "and fetch me whatever was served for breakfast. Find me an appropriate dress, and place the necklace in the locked cabinet. I need to visit Lady Uzumaki."

—

(it all comes back to this)

_It all comes back to this, doesn't it? This desperate crawl for something greater, and this time, it's you._

_You have become a problem, if I'm being honest. Every time I close my eyes, I see you. When I'm not paying attention, I turn to find you, but you're never there. I whisper your name in my sleep, my ladies' maids tell me, and I hear your laughter in the back of my mind. _

_In all our years, you became my everything, but more than that you became my habit. They say old habits die hard, and I guess for us, that was true in every sense of the word. _

_I keep remembering how it used to be in an effort to merge this present with our past. Do you remember, Sasuke-kun? How it felt to live beyond the boundaries of this prison? How it felt to hold my hand in the warmth of the sun, in a place just beyond the horizon? _

_Those are the memories that I breathe for. Every day, every minute that I push forward, make plans, give alms, have lone carriage rides, hold Hinata's hand in solidarity, I live in the hopes that I can find that place once again in the future. And maybe, if I'm as lucky as I've been, you'll be there waiting for me. _

_It's been a long time, Sasuke-kun, but even so, I don't think I can bring myself to regret this. Not the mind-shattering doubt, not the body count. After all, it brought me closer to you. _

_I know our time together was so much shorter than it should have been, and for that I am sorry. But I know now more than ever that the one thing I should have wished for was not the power to change things or for you in my arms, but for time. _

_It has always been my greatest enemy, and I never realized it._

_Your love—no, our love—is perhaps the greatest adventure the world that we gave so much for has ever and will ever know. _

_Kushina has decided to step down from her throne; she has decided to put herself first and her kingdom second, and I can't fault her for that. I am to be crowned a month from now, but this doesn't feel like I've won. Not without you here._

_There are few things that I know to be true that are left. The first is that I love you. The second is that you loved (love?) me. _

_And the last is this: The way I will rule this blood-and-brine soaked kingdom will hinge less on your dealings with the earth and much more on how I imagine you will hold me on the day that I come home. _

_I miss you with every breath that I take. _

_Until we meet again, always yours, _

_Sakura_

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**notes:** last chapter of this with the last prompt should be out tomorrow. *^* thank you guys for all the support.


	4. spring

**born to blush unseen**—I know that we were made to break.

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「spring」 _one day, sasuke-kun. one day. _

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(three wishes)

It was early spring when Sakura walked steadily down the steps of the royal carriage, her face all hard lines and sad eyes. There were dark splotches beneath her eyelids that no amount of cold water could rid, and she thought perhaps, if such a thing existed, a vaccination for her sins would do the trick.

It was her first order of business—that immediately after the coronation she'd ride her procession down to the orphanage and press forward with her healing. There was to be no ball, no after party. Their land had gone through too much trauma to endure a half-baked reception that no one wanted to attend.

Her sovereignty was nothing to celebrate—only the culmination of almost a year's worth of terrible events.

There was no heavier crown, she thought, and all the bowed heads and slowly rising figures behind her didn't serve to alleviate the weight.

As she steadily walked down the path towards the orphanage, rubies and gold glinting on her head, she couldn't help but focus on the way back behind her. Her gaze focused on the breeze grazing the grass, the dandelions swaying.

If such frivolities were permitted, she knew she would have stopped to wish for three things: another world, another life, another time.

She pushed open the heavy wooden door to find a great many children sorted out from healthiest to unhealthiest. She scanned the end of the line, hoping, but found no purchase in the magenta-haired girl.

She was gone, and Sakura was too late.

Still, she settled onto her knees and a page came forward with a basket full of syringes. The boy, the first chosen one, couldn't have been older than eight, and something in his dark gray eyes reminded her of a Sasuke she knew a long time ago, the one she had played with in the fields and grew up side by side with.

He averted his eyes as she tried to meet his gaze, and he stumbled over his words. "Y-your Majesty," he stuttered unsurely, peeking out from under his messy hair.

"Can I ask you a question?" she said softly, pressing a cleaning wipe to his upper arm. "What happened to the girl with dark pink hair?"

His eyes blurred with years, and he didn't mince words. "She's dead."

She exhaled softly, breathing as she uncapped the injection. "Can I ask a favor of you?"

He nodded, and she took his moment of determination to slide the needle into his skin. He hissed in surprise, and she pushed the plunger down.

"I need you to be strong for me. And I need you to treasure your loved ones. Know what's important in life, and don't lose sight of it. Follow your dreams, but always know that for the hard things, a price must always be paid."

He looked at her wonderingly, wide eyed and unsure. "Why are you telling me this?"

She smiled softly, pushing his hair behind his ears and breathing in relief at the knowledge that she had finally begun to make the difference she wanted to. Gentle applause sounded behind her at the onset of this cure, and she bowed her head towards his ear.

Shouts began to echo in the square, and she raised her voice to reply over them. "Because you remind me of me."

She stood and faced the crowd, skirt pooling at her feet, and with her first steps forward, she smiled, tears threatening to slide down her cheeks. _For all I know, Sasuke-kun, we are just playing the greatest game of hide and seek this land has ever known._

She began to walk forward, and the ghost of _his_ hand laced together with hers. Another smaller one grasped at her fingers, and she looked down to see the boy trailing alongside her. The sun glinted off her regalia, and she strode forward into a new age.

"Long live the Queen!" her people chanted. Her eyes tightened momentarily, and she could still hear his voice in the pounding of her heart.

Tears blurred her vision, and she smiled. _I'm home._

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**notes:** god, I am so glad and sad this is over. it's been swell. thank you for everything.


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